


Dead Birds Can't Fly

by Aiza_60



Series: Assassin Children AU [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Assassin Children, Batfam meets YJ, Detective Work, Gen, JASON IS ALIVE YOU FOOLS, Sequel, wut is tagging anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aiza_60/pseuds/Aiza_60
Summary: Dick Grayson knew what he saw. He’d been trained in detective work and he knew evidence when he saw it. Tim could back him up– they’d both been there. But the way his best friend looked at him like he was going crazy– that hurt.Jason was alive. Dick and Tim were going to prove it.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Wally West, Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Assassin Children AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992127
Comments: 29
Kudos: 269





	1. Desires of a Dead Bird

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha guess who's been procrastinating? Moi. Ik this was supposed to come out at the beginning of the month buuut the month's not over yet so no harm no foul right? Anyway, this fic is a sequel to Muscle Memory so check that out if you haven't already. Also I'd like to thank everyone for the comments and feedback on Muscle memory because wooo dopamine and it really does help me write better lol. Okay so that's enough rambling, enjoy the fic!

Dick Grayson knew what he saw. He’d been trained in detective work and he _knew_ evidence when he saw it. Tim could back him up– they’d both been there. But the way his best friend looked at him like he was going crazy– that _hurt_. 

The speedster in question could barely keep Dick in the mountain’s med-bay for long enough to complete the standard post-kidnapping exam. The exam was stupid. Dick wasn’t even hurt. He had more important things to do– like going to Jason’s memorial. Some days, he could barely stomach the idea of visiting, the reminder of all the friends and family he’d lost, but today, _today he could do it_. Because today there was _hope_. 

Jason could come home. 

The hologram stood as it always did, a proud image of Jason on display. Even though the image was enlarged, all Dick could think about was how tiny Jason had been as Robin. Years of malnutrition had decided that despite Alfred’s best efforts. 

But now… he’d grown so much. Now he was eye-level with Dick, maybe even taller and more built than Dick had ever been around that age. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, was he?

Dick didn’t know how long he sat there, staring up at Jason’s memorial from the wet grass. It was Wally, in the end, who came to get him. “Tim’s up. He’s asking for you,” Wally said. “Hey, you doing okay?”

“Do you know how _horrible_ of a brother I was to Jason, Wally? I mean, I’ve– I’ve tried to do better by Tim, but now I have the chance to make things _right_ again. I just need to find Jason and… and _bring him home_.”

“Dick…”

“I know what you’re going to say but I know what I saw.” 

Wally sat down beside him. “ Yeah, but… I don’t want you to lose yourself in this. You know how dangerous that could be. Jason wouldn’t want–”

“ _What wouldn’t Jason want?_ ” Dick’s voice sounded vicious to his own ears. “To come _home?_ I know you don’t believe me Wally but don’t try to talk me down from this. You’re either helping me or you’re _in my way_.” 

The speedster’s expression hardened. But instead of responding to Dick’s jab, he sighed.“Tim’s still waiting for you, you know,” he said detachedly. 

Brushing the grass off his pants, Dick stood up. “I’ll prove it to you, Wally. I’ll prove it to all of you. Jason’s alive.” He turned to leave and Wally made no move to follow. Fine. 

Wheels were already spinning in Dick’s head. He’d need to put together some solid evidence about Jason’s state of not-deadness, both for the team and for Bruce. That would mean DNA evidence, facial recognition and… and digging up Jason’s grave. His stomach tightened at the thought. 

There was another matter as well– Jason wasn’t alone. Two other kids (Bruce’s kid, one of them, _God_ ) that Jason likely wouldn’t be willing to part with anytime soon. Luckily, with Bruce’s habit of adopting kids, convincing him to take in two more shouldn’t be a problem. 

But first things first– Tim. The kid looked distant, mind probably busy solving another of Bruce’s cold cases that he’d committed to memory. 

“Timbo, you there?” Dick asked, trying to soften his voice as to not startle Tim. 

The kid blinked owlishly, as though waking up (though his eyes had been open the entire time.) “Oh yeah. I wanted to confirm something with you. “ He paused. “Is it real? Is Jason really–” 

“Yeah” Dick breathed. “Jason’s alive.”

But instead of beaming or even a slight smile, Tim only looked more troubled by the minute. “What’s wrong?” 

"Do you know the full debrief of our rescue?” 

Dick shook his head. “ I was conscious, but not completely there.” What happened?” 

“I accessed the report to see what I missed. The building collapsed Dick. They didn’t even try to save those kids. The report said that they were assassins, they could take care of themselves. Nowhere did it say that the assassins were kids.” 

If Dick was mad before, he was seething now. Whether the kids were Jason and his friends or not, they didn’t deserve that. ‘ _Assassins can take care of themselves_ ’ that was garbage. They had several metas on the team that could’ve helped easily. Did those kids even make it out of the rubble alive? 

Dick grit his teeth. They couldn’t twist the protocol of teammates before enemies when it came to kids. They wouldn’t do it. Never again. 

‘M’gann, connect everyone up please,” Dick projected, his words surprisingly level. ‘I have something to tell the team.’ A moment later, he could feel the fuzzy presence of several people. ‘What the _hell_ were you guys thinking? Those were kids in that building and you didn’t even try to save them!’ 

‘What a nice way to say thank you,’ Conner retorted. ‘Those kids could take care of themselves. And I did a quick check before we left. I heard three heartbeats. They were fine.’

‘We were worried about you,’ M’gann said, trying to soften Conner’s words. ‘We needed to make sure you were okay before we did anything else.’

‘ _Damn you all!’_ Dick seethed. ‘Kids deserve second chances. You should know that; _especially_ you, Artemis. I can’t believe you go out calling yourselves heroes and when the time comes you don’t even save the ones who probably need it the most.’

He turned to Tim. “C’mon, let’s go home. I can’t deal with these guys right now.” 

_____________________

The thing about zetas was that the ones in the mountain didn’t have doors, and so making a dramatic exit via a slamming door was a non-option. Not that anyone from the team would be able to hear it through the mind link anyway, Tim lamented. 

Alfred was the one to meet them in the cave. Though it didn’t seem as if he were expecting them, he wasn’t startled. “Master Dick, Master Timothy,” he greeted in that oh-so-proper way of his. “What brings you back so late?” 

“Impromptu kidnapping,” Dick answered haughtily before storming off to the showers.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?” 

Tim sighed, doing the clasp on his cape. “His mood or the kidnapping?” He supposed both were related and it was probably best to tell the full story anyway. “Some assassin kids took me and him. Don’t worry, they didn’t hurt us, they just wanted to talk. The team came to rescue us and then the building collapsed. But the team didn’t try to save the kids ‘cause they were assassins and now Dick is upset.” 

Alfred hummed. “ And you aren’t.”

“Of course I am Alfred! You can't leave kids in a collapsing building!” Especially not one who had a history like Jason’s. _Jason._ But he had a chance to help Jason now. He had a chance to help _his Robin_ now. And so Tim uttered the name that had been near-taboo in the Wayne household. “We have reason to think that Jason’s alive.” 

The old man paused. His lip quirked. “My dear boy,” he whispered, “do my ageing ears betray me?” 

Tim found a smile growing on his face. He shook his head. “Me and Dick saw his face, though we haven't ruled out shapeshifters or clones just yet. We’re going to conduct further research.” 

“Ah, best not to tell Master Bruce until you’re certain, I suppose. False hope can be a very cruel thing.” 

“About Bruce… is he home?” 

“He’s out currently,” Alfred said slyly, “And should be until late this evening. 

Tim let out a breath. “Perfect. I’ll just be down here running facial recognition scans to don’t mind me Alfie.”

“An excellent idea,” the butler praised, walking away, “ _after_ you’ve followed Master Dick’s example and showered beforehand. As fond as I am of you, I do not particularly wish to smell _Eau du Timothy_ much longer.” 

The corner of Tim’s mouth turned upward. “Okay, will do.” 

It wasn’t long before Tim and Dick got to work. Tim supposed he was lucky that the so-dubbed Bat-computer had such good facial reconstruction programs. It sure saved him a lot of work. Within half an hour, the generated face of older- Jason ~~assassin Jason~~ stared back at the bats from the screen. Sure, some things that the computer couldn’t have predicted were off– like his scar or his eyes but overall it was quite accurate. 

“Jason had blue eyes,” Dick murmured softly, leaning back in his seat. Bathed in the light from the monitor, his complexion resembled that of a corpse.“Blue.”

“But we saw him with green ones!” Tim interjected. “If he’s a clone, it could be a discrepancy–”

“He’s not a clone. Don’t look at me like that Tim, I’m not being irrational.” He carded his fingers through his still-damp hair. “Jason was with the League, right? And I don’t know about you but the green eyes, the way he was acting, it was all a little familiar.” 

Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you suggesting?” 

“The Lazarus Pit. They’ve revived Ra’s plenty of times.” 

“Can they bring back the dead?” 

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to kill me and toss me in or…” 

“What? No!” Dick looked horrified. “Tim, I would never!”

“Relax,” Tim chuckled, “That was supposed to lighten the mood, you idiot. Now come on, we have a grave to visit.” 


	2. A Cracked Shell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNRELATED TO THE ACTUAL STORY BUT IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING: For plot purposes (aka because I'm lazy) we'll just say that in order to clone somebody the person has to be alive while the cloning process is taking place. And the bats know for a fact that the Jason they buried was really Jason (You can be sure Bruce ran ALL THE TESTS) so no clone time for jay! (unless they cloned him while he was in the league which makes everything too complicated and I donn't have the braincells for that)

Dick’s fingers traced the lettering on the headstone. _Jason Peter Todd. A light in our lives extinguished far too soon._ He sighed. “This is it, Timmy.” 

The site looked as Tim always remembered it. Quiet, peaceful, undisturbed. He knew now that at least one of those wasn’t true. “Do you think the groundskeepers covered up any evidence?” It was quite possible. Not many people wanted to get on the bad side of a grieving Bruce Wayne after all. 

The acrobat grunted and thrust his shovel into the ground without another word. Tim joined him quickly. He’d have thought that digging up a grave would be tiring work, but he couldn’t quite focus on that past the queasy feeling of knowing who the grave belonged to. Or used to belong to. They’d find out soon enough, he thought uneasily. 

It was Dick’s shovel that hit wood first. Upon further inspection, the coffin’s lid was splintered. Tim stole a glance at Dick. The man wore a grim facade; Tim understood it. Neither of them could crack, not now. 

With twisting guts, Tim swung the lid off. 

_Empty._

Tim didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He supposed this _was_ what he was hoping for–but something wasn’t right. 

“It’s really him out there,” Dick breathed. 

He stared a beat more. Then Tim saw it– small details, clues, spreading themselves out before him. He hated the way his detective brain worked sometimes, so detached from events. How could he be when this was– when this belonged to– His mouth moved by itself. “Look at this.” Tim pointed to the white lining of the casket, some of which was stained a brownish colour. Small, white crescents were embedded in the fabric– were those fingernails? “He dug himself out, Dick.” 

Dick’s face blanched as he processed the words. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “He– Oh God…” He slid his hand over his mouth, frozen. It took several minutes for him to pull his grim facade up again. 

“Take some samples of the fabric and the soil. We’ll analyze it in the cave.” This time when he spoke, his voice sounded miles away. 

The computer scans confirmed the blood and fingernails as Jason’s. Curiously, there was no trace of Lazarus waters around the grave at all. Something definitely wasn’t right– though Tim wasn’t too keen about bringing it up. Not at Alfred’s dinner table. 

Not that either he or Dick had much of an appetite anyway. The thought of putting food in his mouth only brought the burning taste of bile rising in his throat. Instead, Tim spent most of the time pushing the roast chicken around his plate before asking to be excused. 

“I’ll check on him, Alfred,” Dick said quickly, pushing his untouched plate out of the way and following suit. 

They met on the roof. “You should go back down before your food gets cold, Dick.” 

The acrobat ignored him entirely. He stared at the glimmering lights on the horizon, for once completely still. “What do you think he’s doing right now?” 

Tim took a seat beside his brother. “Probably bossing his assassin friends around. I don’t know.” 

“Do you think we’ll find them?”

“If they want us to.” 

The pair sat in silence for several minutes, watching the gleam of cars race by in the distance. Tim turned to Dick. “Where are we going from here, Dick? We have enough evidence to present a case– maybe even warrant a search.”

Then we present a case.”

“Oh yeah, we’ll make a PowerPoint and say ‘Hey Batman, your dead son is alive and he’s hanging out with your bio son and David Cain’s daughter. Oh, did I mention they’re all assassins?’”

Dick snorted. “That’s going to go horribly. But I’m being serious here, Tim.” 

“Fine. I’ll help you write it. But you’re doing all the talking,” Tim said, shoving Dick lightly on the shoulder. 

“Deal.” 

______________

It had taken a lot of consideration and humility on his part for Dick to decide that he’d tell Bruce first– without the team being there. After all, Bruce had an _image_ to keep up. Dick’s stupid fight with Wally could wait. Because _he_ was _right_ and he was going to be smug about it for the rest of eternity. 

“Bruce, what are you doing here still? Tim called you downstairs like half an hour ago.” 

The man grunted. “One minute, Dick. Lucius will have my head if this paperwork’s not done by tomorrow.” 

“Bruuuuuuce. It’s _urgent_ ,” he said like he was still nine and nagging Bruce to come watch him perform a new gymnastics routine he’d perfected. He tugged on Bruce’s arm. “Me and Tim are working on a new case. We need you downstairs.” 

“Aren’t you two benched?” he asked absently. So he did find out about the kidnapping. Dammit Alfred. Dick tugged on his arm some more. “Alright, alright.”

Tim had a PowerPoint waiting. He thought it’d be funny. Dick thought it a tad inappropriate for the situation. 

“What are you talking about Dick?” Tim had said. “ _Bruce_ didn’t have to go through the trauma of digging up Jason’s grave. It’s all good news for him. Let me have my fun.” 

“Thanks for your punctual arrival, B,” Tim drawled, motioning for the man to sit. “Totally didn’t leave us waiting at all.”

“You wanted me here for a case?” 

Dick took the lead. “Approximately a week ago, Tim and I were kidnapped by a trio of defecting assassins from the League. They were just kids. They wanted to ask us some questions.”

“About what?” Bruce rumbled. 

“One of them has amnesia and thought we might be able to help him with it. Then they revealed their identities to us.” Dick took a deep breath. “One of them is Jason.” 

Bruce stilled completely. “Jason?” he whispered. “H–how?” 

“We’re still not sure, Bruce, but it is him. We did some more research after we got back.” Tim supplied. He switched slides– each showing different evidences. “We… we checked the grave too. It’s empty.” 

Bruce stared numbly at the slides. “Jason’s… alive?”

“Don’t worry. We’re sure it's him. We wouldn’t have told you otherwise,” Dick said placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

A brief look of pure unbridled joy erupted over Bruce’s face. It vanished just as quickly as it came.“I feel there's a ‘but’ coming.”

“He doesn’t remember _anything_ , Bruce. Not even our secret identities. All he can remember is the past year he spent with the League.” 

The expression on Bruce’s face became steely. “It doesn’t matter. He’s my son and nothing will change that. We need to track him down.” He stood. “Who are the other two assassins?”

“The daughter of David Cain and Lady Shiva,” Tim said. “And– you might want to sit down for this one– the son of Talia al Ghul and uh you.” 

If it was possible, Bruce looked even more shocked than before. 

Dick laughed. It felt good. “Congratulations Bruce, it’s a boy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! What a ride! I know, I know, the actual reunion wasn't here– but! Thats what's coming next! I want to take my time with the reunion and do it justice so pardon the wait dear readers. In the meantime, I'm thinking of posting a very short drabble (if anyone's interested) about Wally and the Team absolutely losing their godamn minds because the bats were right! Who woulda thought? 
> 
> P.S.- I'm still not sure what to name the reunion fic so any suggestions in the comments will be appreciated!


End file.
